Service
by DezoPenguin
Summary: The final battle between Drangleic and the Giants is at hand, but beneath the fortress that is the kingdom's last line of defense, a different confrontation takes place. Where does loyalty lie, and what is the cost of betrayal?


In the heights above them, Cardinal Tower shook with the first impacts. The Giants had come to Drangleic, their hearts as stone with their unyielding need for vengeance. Twenty years of strife, first at sea as navies clashed, then at the borders, on ground carved by King Vendrick out of other lands, had not deterred them. A war in which a boy could grow to manhood, watching his grandfather and father before him lay down their lives, had not given them pause. Whatever it was Vendrick's invasion had taken from them, it was such that no mercy was left in their souls.

And now they stood at the very border of Drangleic proper. The Giant Lord himself had come with a fleet painstakingly built at their beachhead on the northern shores, ferrying his troops around the mountains. If Cardinal Tower fell, the Giants would have a straight path through the forest and into the highlands towards Drangleic Castle.

But if they did, they would not find their quarry.

"You can't be serious."

He spat his words like a challenge, did the man known as the left hand of the King. His face was twisted with rage and disbelief.

"He would _run_?"

The target of his wrath was not there. In his absence, one would have expected the messenger to quail at Raime's fury. The black raven was an omen of fear, but true to his epithet, the Royal Aegis was unyielding.

"His Majesty's commands are not ours to question."

"I could see it if all he was doing was remaining in Drangleic Castle. A king doesn't need to lead from the front lines, especially in a defensive action. And he's not the young man who carved this kingdom out of the ruins of Alken and Venn, or who led the invasion of the Giants." It took an effort of will for Raime to allow even that much; the pain of betrayal clawed at him, fueling the rage. "But to flee the castle itself? And what's more, to order me away from this battlefield to go with him? Who does he expect to stand against the Giant Lord when he comes, Drummond and his soldiers?"

"I'm not privy to the King's plans, Raime. He sent you your orders. You are to return to the castle to join his escort to the Shrine of Amana."

High above, pitch and powder detonated like thunder, the siege-weapons of the Giants matched by the soldiers' returning fire.

"And when I questioned that order, you came yapping to fetch me like the loyal dog you've always been."

Velstadt's handsome face twisted in a snarl behind his helmet's faceguard.

"I'll forgive that insult, Raime, because I know you're not yourself right now. But you and I are knights of Drangleic, and that means serving our liege lord with all that we have."

"A liege who betrays his people and runs like a coward?"

Raime couldn't believe that Velstadt didn't understand. The two men were blood-brothers, champions of Drangleic. They'd fought side-by-side many a time, whether against monsters and outlaws, rebellious vassals, or on the front lines against the Giants. They knew first-hand what the kingdom faced and what could only be answered by force of arms.

"A liege whom we have sworn our oaths to obey. I do not presume to know His Majesty's mind, Raime, but I do know that if he is fleeing, it is not from the Giants. Something else, something darker than an invading horde dogs him."

"The curse of the Undead, you think?"

Velstadt shook his head.

"I cannot say. I only know that it is our place to stand with him, not to question his commands. If a knight cannot be relied upon, then he is no knight at all."

There was a deafening boom from above, so loud that it seemed as if the tower's very foundations shook. Perhaps they had; the fort was built here for defensive purposes, but the land was unstable beneath, perhaps even leading to a great lake of volcanic fire. This was why scavenged bits from the Iron Keep had been used liberally in constructing the place, materials that would stand strong unless actually plunged into the laval.

"I can't do that, Velstadt," Raime said. "My place is _here_ , serving the kingdom by fighting its enemies. It's not in crawling down some darkened hole, or messing about with the dead. Everything King Vendrick built will be pulled down stone by stone if we don't stop the Giants here, now!"

"Your place?" Velstadt said. "You would defy your king's direct order, and then speak of your _place_?" He did not raise his voice, did not scream and shout, but the fury rolled off him in waves.

The Royal Aegis spoke only rarely about his past. Even Raime knew little enough, but he did know that Velstadt came from a fallen land, a lost and broken kingdom from far beyond the borders of Drangleic whose capital had fallen to disaster ages ago. It was a familiar story; the Forossans in Vendrick's service could tell their own variation well, but it was not Forossa that Velstadt hailed from, nor was it as a sellsword that he came. His loyalty was to the man, to the King, as it would have been to his own had his land still had one.

"True beyond death," Velstadt's voice was iron. "That is the knight's oath. And for a knight who is forsworn, there is _no_ place." He swallowed once, and his face softened. "There's no need for this, Raime," he pleaded. "Set aside these accursed doubts and return with me. King Vendrick will not hold it against you that you but sought to better serve your homeland."

Raime could hear the ache in the man's voice. They were rivals, and fellow-knights, but above all friends. Velstadt didn't want it to end this way, this painful tearing between feeling and duty. For a moment, Raime waivered, wanted to reach out and grasp the golden gauntlet Velstadt extended to him.

He might have, he would realize later, if Velstadt hadn't been so damned sure of himself. He'd framed it for Raime as a struggle between duty and emotion, but it had never been in doubt for Velstadt where it was that duty lay.

Not a single moment when he acknowledged it was even possible Raime might be _right_.

That was what settled it, and Raime would never know if it was from faith or from pride that he slapped Velstadt's hand away, steel ringing off steel.

"And what of the King's duty to _us_? You talk of our duty to him, but where is his duty? If he will not defend his lands, his people, if he will see all he built laid low by the consequences of _his_ actions, then I say he is no king at all!"

Velstadt let out his breath in a sigh that was almost a growl. His eyes were as hard as flint.

"Then, by the word of King Vendrick, Raime the Black Raven, if you will not obey, then you are knight no longer, and stand banished from Drangleic and all its holdings."

"Banished, Velstadt? There is a _war_ on, in case you hadn't noticed—or cared."

"A war between the Giants and the people of Drangleic, of which you are neither."

"I was born in Drangleic, have killed for Drangleic and spilt my blood for her, unlike our so-called King."

"Without the King, there is no Drangleic and never was. His soul forged it. His will brought it together from the ashes of fallen kingdoms." He swung his great bell-mace around into a two-handed grip, a guard stance.

Raime's sword slid from its scabbard. His arm slipped through his greatshield's fittings, fingers closing on the handle.

"Then weep for Drangleic, as that will is broken, that soul faded."

"Not so long as I stand as its instrument," Velstadt said, with all the fierce solemnity of a sworn oath, and they struck.

It was impossible to say which moved first. Raime had the faster stroke from his lighter weapon, but Velstadt's reflexes were every bit as quick and though Raime's blow landed first, the Royal Aegis's great hammer was already in motion and it crashed down onto Raime's shield, scarring the mark of the black raven with the impact. Velstadt swung the butt end of his hammer up, using the heavy flange there to strike at Raime's leg, but the swordsman pivoted aside and sliced at Velstadt's arm, his sword ringing off the miracle-laced gold gauntlet.

"I suppose it was inevitable," Raime said between blows. "The two of us, the King's left and right hands…I always wondered which one of us would win in a fight."

Velstadt's hammer came in again, in a broad horizontal swing that could not be blocked, so the swordsman was forced to give ground.

"That's the difference between us, Raime. I never did."

The massive chime was devastating, but even a man of Velstadt's enormous strength couldn't flip it around like a dagger. Raime stepped in quickly, stabbing for the spot where his enemy's armor plates met at the shoulder. He snuck the point past, the magical blade cutting the mail beneath, drawing blood, but only superficially, and Velstadt slammed the hammer handle crossways into Raime's chest like a quarterstaff, sending him tumbling back.

While Raime stumbled for balance, Velstadt lifted his hammer and rang the chime, swinging it once, twice, three times above his head, then snapping it down as orbs of sacred lightning blasted from it. Raime braced himself behind his greatshield, bunching his shoulder against the bruising impacts and letting the shield's magic deflect most of the force of the assault. He was barely hurt, but he was jolted, knocked off-balance by the impacts, and slowed just that tiny bit of time it took to react when Velstadt followed up by charging in and lunging, thrusting his great mace out in front of him like a lance.

With a second's more time to react, Raime would have sidestepped and countered, but he didn't _have_ that second. All he could do was block, get his shield in between himself and the crushing blow, and he managed to do it, but it knocked him off-balance even more, stumbling back…and defenseless when Velstadt brought the chime hammer up, around, and down again with crushing force that slammed Raime to the hard-packed earth and left him out of breath, his vision unfocused. It took him several seconds to realize even that his shield had been torn from his grip.

"By rights, I should kill you here," Velstadt said. "You've betrayed our King."

"Then get it over with," Raime slurred. What did it matter now, all his talk about fighting the Giants, the importance of making a stand? "Obviously…I don't have the strength to make a difference here anyway."

Velstadt's gauntlets clenched around the chime's haft. He started to raise it, to strike the final blow.

"By the gods, Raime," he hissed out.

"What are you waiting for?"

"Did it mean nothing? All these years we served together? The battles we fought for our King?"

"For Drangleic, Velstadt. You were the one fighting for the King."

Velstadt sighed, then lowered his hammer.

"Go."

"What?"

"Go. That tunnel over there should lead outside the fortress, and you can retreat to the forest from there."

"I thought you said I was a traitor."

"King Vendrick commanded that I bring you back, and his law demands exile for any knight who defies him." The Royal Aegis sighed heavily. "For the sake of our service together, Raime, let the rest of it lie between us alone."

Slowly, Raime turned over, getting to his hands and knees, using his sword to help push himself upright.

"One last sparring match before I go into exile, then?" he said, bitterness heavy in his tone. When Velstadt didn't answer, Raine sighed out, "Fine. There's no point in a futile rebellion. What good will that do me, or Drangleic?"

He swayed slightly when he reached his feet. His head still wasn't clear, which was probably for the best. It would keep him from trying something stupid and quixotic.

"Is that where your strength comes from, Velstadt? Your dedication to the King?"

He slid his sword back into its sheath.

"Service to His Majesty gives me purpose. Without purpose, you have no true strength. How can you keep a focused will when doubts harry you?"

"How, indeed."

Raime turned and started towards the tunnel entrance. He left his shield where it lay, still forgotten—or maybe some part of his mind did remember but left it knowingly, abandoned as a legacy of the lost fight, of a path to strength that had reached its end.

 _Was Velstadt right?_ he thought. _Is it my doubts, my wavering between King and country that cost me?_

 _And if so, is there a liege a man like me can find that I can give my all?_

~X X X~

 _A/N: The description of Velstadt's armor and greathammer in this story is based on its in-game description, "originally imbued with the power of miracles, now soaked with dark after extended exposure in the Undead Crypt." Likewise, it's noted in that description that Velstadt was "a knight from a faraway land"; it makes at least some sense that that land would be Shulva, and that's why Elana can summon him in battle; Vel is the kind of person who takes his oaths seriously._


End file.
